


The booth

by CaerOLaine



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:18:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaerOLaine/pseuds/CaerOLaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man was full of stories, even if he wasn't willing to share with them. But there are ways to make people talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The booth

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an encouragement to continue an RP about the empress, her bodyguard and strangely smelling tea. It didn't work.

"And?"

***

The air near the stove was pleasantly warm, while it was getting cold and dark outside. The booth which Callista usually occupied during her lessons with Emily was not that comfortable, but at this hour she didn’t really care. Time for lessons was long over, empress-to-be finally fell asleep in her room and Callista found time for a moment of solitude.

Not for long. As she finally settled on the sagged seat with hands wrapped around a mug, hot tea steaming from it, from the corner of her eye she spotted a figure in the doorway, dark against brightly lit staircase leading to upstairs rooms. His sudden appearance startled her, only then she thought that he probably wasn’t doing it on purpose and ability to silently move around was a useful skill in his previous, as well as in his current occupation. It must’ve become his second nature.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you," Corvo stopped by the counter, as if he wasn’t entirely sure whether he wanted to come in or not. "I thought the pub would be empty at this hour," he said and almost immediately grimaced, probably realizing how tactless it must’ve sounded. It was hard to find a little privacy in the Hound Pits after all.

He looked tired, by the little light cast by lamps on the wall behind the counter, dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper than usual, was it because of his assignment or whatever demons were haunting him. Callista briefly thought it was probably both.

"No, I..." she started and then thought better. "I could use some company, if you don’t mind."

Corvo hesitated, for a moment Callista was convinced he would turn away and leave, but finally he took a place opposite her, if a little uncomfortably.

It hasn’t been long since he arrived to Hounds Pits for the first time, one afternoon a few days ago, a shadow of a man dressed in an army coat which hung loose on his starved frame. Callista could only imagine what six months of prison confinement did to him, but it was enough to look at his ragged figure to see that it wasn’t a pleasant time. She heard rumours saying he denied confessing to crimes he was accused of, which only showed that he was either mad to believe that someone actually would take him seriously or... he was telling the truth. He stumbled when getting out of the boat that brought him, evidently exhausted not only after waiting for execution, but also after his daring escape and passage through the city sewers. Looking at him Callista, couldn’t say his appearance changed much, even if there was enough food to eat and that little time he needed to rest and let his many wounds to heal. It wasn’t much, but it needed to suffice.

His shoulder-length unkempt hair was hiding some of the bruises and cuts, but not a nasty scar just below his right eye, not quite healed yet, or sunken cheeks. There wasn’t much left of his fearsome appearance portrayed on wanted posters. Only his eyes had that unhealthy gleam, be it despair, revenge or determination, she could not say.

He rested his hands on the table, fingers laced together, a black mark on the back of his hand barely hidden by a long sleeve of his shirt. Although she couldn’t see it clearly, she knew well what it meant: concentric semi-circles, with four lines extended from its core in four cardinal directions, north the most prominent, the sign tilted to one side. Exactly the same shape she’d seen, long time ago, carved on a piece of whale bone, bleached with age, washed ashore near a place where she had been staying. Callista shuddered involuntarily, remembering all the stories and teachings of the Abbey. Of the primeval entity, the sea and black magic.

Corvo shifted, clearly noticing her gaze, but didn’t make any attempt to hide the mark. His fingers brushed one of Emily’s drawings, scattered on his side of the table. The top one was showing a lonely tower, the very same that was left from a tenement house on at the waterfront, after the rest of it tumbled down, now serving as a temporary home. The place couldn’t be that bad, despite draughts and a quite distinctive smell of mould, as Emily added a rainbow stretching its multicoloured arch in the background.

Corvo’s appearance didn’t change, but it seemed to Callista that his features softened a little.

The only thing she was sure about him, was his absolute devotion to Emily and Emily’s – for lack of a better word – admiration for him. Callista was painfully aware, that empress’s daughter was now the only thing that was left not only of the family he had sworn to protect, but also of a promise of a better future, if there was any future to look to. Being a personal bodyguard of the most important person in the empire and accompanying her everywhere she went must have meant he’d spent an awful amount of time in the presence of Emily as well. Watching them being together Callista couldn’t help but wonder if the rumours were true.

“Not your damn business.”

Surprised, that he could read her mind so easily, she lifted her head only to meet his hard gaze. His dark, untrimmed hair and scarred face gave him a fierce appearance, of someone ready to defend with his life things that he held dear.

Well, maybe it wasn’t her business, but it surely was not a reason to...

Corvo put his hands flat on a table, a clear intention of leaving, the mark fully visible against his skin.

"And, in case you were wondering, yes, this is exactly what you think it is," he rose from the seat.

"I didn’t mean to—"

"Yes, you did."

Callista burst out before she had time to think.

"Outsider’s eyes, man!"

Did she really say it out loud? The look on Corvo’s face confirmed that indeed she did. And then he cracked a smile.

"I didn’t know you knew such words."

Callista straightened, false indignation in her voice.

"I have knowledge of things you wouldn’t suspect," a light smile danced on her lips. "I’m a governess after all," and then added more seriously. "Please, sit. I really didn’t mean to offend you, I just... was wondering how it was back then. I’m sure you have some fond memories, from before..."

A shadow crossed Corvo’s face, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he told her about one afternoon in the Tower, when he was investigating a new brand of tea.

***

"Was it poisoned?"


End file.
